


Fundraiser

by SpookshowBabyx



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1370695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookshowBabyx/pseuds/SpookshowBabyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Word Prompt piece: House's reaction to Cameron's infamous red dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I'm impressed."

"Yes, I do tend to have that effect on others."

"Clearly my praise was not directed towards your modesty."

"Clearly. What  _is_  it directed at?"

"You're wearing a shirt. And it's ironed."

Brown eyes sparkle with good humor as the oncologist goads his friend for the first time in what is promising to be a very fruitful night of sarcasm. Following House over to the makeshift bar set up in the lunch hall, he rolls his eyes as the graying doctor graciously allows him to pay for their drinks before taking a seat up on one of the tall bar stools.

"They've not done a bad job this year, actually."

"Wouldn't know; I have so far been lucky enough to  _avoid_  Cuddy's fundraisers."

"What's to avoid? Cheap drinks, good natured gambling, a live band... Not to mention the young nurses from paeds strutting about in skimpy little dresses..."

Leaning forward and pointing to one such specimen clad in a sinfully short silver concoction he waggles his eyebrows comically. House rolls his eyes but gives the young woman an appreciative audience as she walks out the room, admiring the way her heels appear slightly beyond her capabilities, causing her ass to move sweetly from side to side.

"I swear, that unit views nights like this as though they were still in high school."

"Apparently they're all vying for the attention of that junior surgeon that just started; Knut or Cunt... Something like that."

"I'd lean towards guessing it's the first. Where's  _your_  surgeon anyway? Are the kids coming?"

"So far as I know. As you said; cheap drinks, music and babes."

"I'm sure Cameron will be thrilled."

"One can dream."

Chuckling amiably, Wilson knocks back his drink, placing the empty tumbler on the table. Filching his wallet out the back pocket of his suit pants, he raises an eyebrow at House who nods absentmindedly.

"Sure. Make it a double. I'm gonna go clear some room."

"Lovely."

The oncologist shakes his head with a grin as he watches his friend make his way slowly towards the bathroom, his awkward gait slightly more pronounced due to his dress shoes. Turning towards the bar, he lets out a low cry of surprise as his empty glass collides with an on-comer's shoulder. Stepping swiftly aside, he recognizes his assailant's long hair easily and grabs the younger man by the arm.

"Chase!"

"Huh?... Oh hey, Wilson."

"Hey, Wilson."

"Hi."

The older doctor smiles as the rest of House's team appear from behind the young surgeon; Foreman looking particularly suave in a black smoker's jacket and Cameron's eyes glittering at him pleasantly as she peers over the blond's shoulder.

"Can I get you three anything to drink? I'm headed to the bar."

Chase shakes his head regretfully, explaining that he's on call should they be needed, while Foreman smiles and requests a beer, glancing back towards Cameron who asks for the same.

"Coming right up."

They watch as Wilson battles his way through the small crowd that surrounds the bar, sidling off towards the corner so as to move out the way of those attempting to dance.

"I didn't think you were even that keen on beer?"

Foreman regards Cameron quizzically as sharp flecks of light cast off the horrendous disco ball suspended from the ceiling play over their bodies.

"I like it well enough. It's easy, and wine's a lot more expensive."

"Jeez, Cameron, you are seriously the  _worst_  girl."

The brunette glances up at Chase as he shakes his head in a burlesque portrayal of disappointment.

"Why...?"

"You're supposed to use your feminine wiles to get what you want! Not settle for what's 'easy'."

"Ah, yes, what on earth was I  _thinking_? When I have all these feminine wiles everywhere!"

She laughs up at him pleasantly, her cheeks rouging just a little. Foreman joins her; the pretty immunologist possibly the last person he can imagine playing the role of seductress.

The two's amusement is lost on their colleague however, as he simply grins down at the brunette, inwardly wondering how in the hell she can be quite so naive as to her appeal. His thoughts are greatly enhanced this evening as his young colleague seems to float about the room, clad in a divine flash of crimson.

Chase isn't alone in his thoughts. As Wilson searches the room for the whereabouts of the small team he finds himself doing a double-take when his eyes linger appreciatively on pale flesh and glossy curls. Realizing the subject of his current fantasy stands between two men who seem disconcertingly familiar, he shakes his head warily and blinks away any impure thoughts firmly. Making his way over with five drinks balanced precariously in his hands, he nods his gratitude to the young brunette as she steps forwards and takes the two beers from him carefully. Holding out a cold glass of coke to the blond in exchange for a nod of thanks, the oncologist places one of the whisky tumblers on a small table to their right before sipping from his own.

"House is here already?

Foreman enquires, gesturing towards the fifth drink that sits unclaimed.

"He rode with me; I figured it was the best way to assure his presence."

"Sly."

"Well... You know me."

Wilson grins as the younger three respond to his sarcasm with pleasant laughter. More often than not, House's bickering and griping about his team has him secretly thankful he doesn't hold a role as a member of the faculty staff, but this feeling is usually brought into question when he himself encounters the three young doctors; finding their company to be altogether rather pleasant.

_Perhaps a better overall reaction is gained when you don't litter them with comments about their race, intelligence and size._

_Just a thought._

"So, did you manage to force House into a suit as well?"

The brunette's tone is causal, but she is instantly greeted with knowing smirks from either side. She's oblivious to this however, as her attention remains directed towards Wilson, but the oncologist finds himself cracking his own grin of amusement.

"I might have... Why ever do you ask, Dr Cameron?"

"Just wondering as to the appropriate level of respect to give you."

Chase and Foreman laugh teasingly, in no way convinced by Cameron's blasé response. Turning to her with twin expressions of amusement, they begin goading their female counterpart vehemently.

"Yeah yeah, deflect all you like, you're just _dying_  to see House in a suit."

"Uh, I  _have_  seen him in a suit. _I_  actually  _bothered_  going to those seminars we were supposed to go to when we started."

"And you loved every second of it..."

"I did. They were very informative."

"Ha! Does it make it easier to imagine the two of you playing out some romantic love scene? Is House your Heathcliff?"

"No."

"Why, Dr Cameron! I do believe you're blushing!"

"I am! You two are highly embarrassing!"

"How's that flat, taut tummy now?"

"Will you shut _up_?!"

"Ooh, temper temper, Allison!"

"I mean it!"

"Guys. Stop."

The oncologist interjects with a smirk, pointing over towards the door where the man in question enters sullenly. Chase and Foreman regard their boss briefly, before simultaneously glancing back at the brunette and letting out ill hidden snorts of laughter.

"Ow!"

The blond yelps as a skinny elbow makes contact with his chest while Foreman moves swiftly aside to avoid a similar fate.

House scours the room irritably for his friend, head thumping a little with the epileptic haze of tacky lighting. Finally spotting Wilson's obnoxiously white jacket, he limps over, at first paying no attention to the oncologist's company, but rather relishing the thought of the whisky that will be there waiting for him.

Closing in on his friend- and, more importantly, his drink- he notes his small, dysfunctional little gang chatting away merrily. At least, he notes _one_  of them. Mouth opening in a hateful display of idiocy, he regards his youngest protégé with a sense of curious disbelief. He has known Cameron for what feels like a decidedly long time- has even had her accompany him to several dreaded weekend seminars- and often finds her perplexing, and yet, never all that  _surprising_.

But now...

He supposes 'surprise' may not be the best word for it after all. He doesn't care to search for a better term however, as they all veer dangerously towards the inappropriate. Crystal blues roaming the immunologist's silk endowed form, he frowns uncomfortably as certain parts of his anatomy seem suddenly less interested in what would be considered acceptable thoughts one should harbor about their employee.

"House."

"Hey."

"House."

He nods as they greet him, raising an eyebrow at the curious blush creeping across the brunette's pale cheeks and the mischievous glint in the boys' eyes. Retrieving his drink from the table, he knocks it back easily, wondering what kind of things one is supposed to say when faced with a bunch of people they see every day and yet still don't really know.

 _Well, no, that's not strictly true. You_ know _them, you just don't particularly_  like  _them._

"So when does all the fun start, then?"

"I think they're just finishing setting up the game tables now. The band should be starting soon too, it's almost ten."

House nods as green eyes remain momentarily fixed on the clock in the far corner, noting with begrudged appreciation the way the brunette's lashes line her eyes sootily; not used to witnessing Cameron wear anything more than tinted lip balm whilst at work. Clearing his throat, he offers his friend a devious smile, teeth bared wolfishly.

"Ready to lose all your money to me?"

"You're all talk."

"A fool and his money will soon be parted."

"Then get ready to eat light for the next couple of weeks."

House laughs, eyes twinkling as he regards Wilson in amusement. The oncologist turns to the younger three, raising an eyebrow and offering a smile.

"Are you guys playing?"

"Is there a poker table?"

"Over there."

"Then I'm in."

"Me too."

Chase and Foreman nod, heading in the direction their boss points. Turning back to face the others, Chase regards the brunette amiably.

"Want me to teach you how to play?"

"I know  _how_  to play, I just don't want to deal with playing with  _you_  two."

"Only because you know you'll lose."

Cameron shrugs, sipping at the remains of her wine.

"Yup, I probably will. I'll play later if you guys move over to black jack."

"Fine. Wilson, you coming?"

The brunet shakes his head, smiling.

"Not my game."

"Whuss."

House rolls his eyes, following his two employees over to the card table, making a small detour on the way to order fresh drinks.

Turning to Cameron, the oncologist smiles pleasantly, nodding towards her now empty glass.

"Refill?"

"Sure."

"Same again?"

"... Could I get a glass of wine instead?"

"Of course you can. What color?"

"Red please."

"Want to wait here?"

"It's cool, I'll help you carry."

He nods amiably and she falls into step beside him as they make their way over to the bar. Leaning over to yell over the starting notes of the band that has taken up the makeshift stage that plays the focal point to the room, Wilson places his order with a redheaded waitress. Glancing back towards the brunette, he spies her listening politely as a young man with soap opera worthy locks talks into her ear, his hand resting on her bare shoulder. She nods as he speaks, raising an eyebrow before blushing and shaking her head. He persists with whatever it is he has to say, but her long curls continue to tumble as she disagrees. Accepting defeat, the young man gives her shoulder a squeeze and leaves with one final word muttered against her cheek.

"Who was that?"

Wilson leans back to ask loudly over the low thrum of a base guitar. He hands Cameron her wine and she smiles brightly, stepping forward so that she can speak closer to his ear.

"Knutz. He's on the surgical team."

"Ah, the new guy?"

"Yeah."

"Everything okay with him?"

"I think so, yeah."

"But not with you?"

"Huh?"

"You didn't seem impressed with whatever he was saying?"

"Oh. No, it's nothing, he just wanted to know if I wanted to get some experience with the surgical team."

"I bet he did."

She shrugs, regarding her wine awkwardly.

"I don't know. Anyway, I stand in on surgery all the time with our own cases."

"...Well, you don't want too much on your plate."

"Exactly!"

"Do you dance?"

"...I..."

The oncologist grins at her companionably, feeling a little foolish in his request, but eyeing the numerous people swaying around to the music cheerfully. The brunette takes a sip of her wine before placing it down on the table by which they'd previously stood, returning his smile and offering out her hand.

"Sure. I'm not very good though."

"Hmm, somehow I doubt that."

"How so?"

"House says you're an ex-cheerleader?"

"Does he?"

"Is he wrong?"

"No... I just wasn't aware he knew that..."

"It's House. He knows all. Actually, what's more  _likely_  is that he simply decided to presume you were a cheerleader until proven wrong."

"I'd rather he  _presume_  I was something with a little more substance..."

"Relax. His visions of you as a cheerleader will be predominantly positive, I can assure you!"

"I doubt it. If it's what  _I_  associated someone with, I'd just assume they were shallow and a little on the dumb side."

"Ah, but  _you're_ not a man!"

"Men should grow up..."

"Hey, I'm just the messenger! I have to say, though, you're not very cheery about your cheerleading!"

"Very funny. I never much liked it. I wasn't exactly what you'd call 'cool enough' to be be on the squad, but I used to go to gymnastics classes as a kid so they kind of needed me on the team for competitions."

"I see. You were a gymnast? Can you still do any tricks?"

"...Yes. Why?"

"Well, if you don't like House thinking of you as a cheerleader, tell him that. But be careful; his head might explode."

She giggles huskily, eyes glittering with good humor as the older doctor places a hand gently at her waist and begins to lead her around with admirable enthusiasm to make up for his lack of refined skill, neither of them aware of the blue stare that follows their movements icily.


	2. Chapter 2

"What's your move?...House?"

The blond frowns in confusion as the graying doctor ignores him. House glances up, distracted, and shakes his head, discarding what could well have been a winning hand and excusing himself.

"I fold."

Making his way over to the bar, his attention remains trained on his friend and the young brunette. Or rather, it remains trained on the way Wilson's blunt-nailed hand presses gently against Cameron's hip, slipping every now and then innocently over the silken fabric of her dress to skim dangerously close to the globed flesh of her ass.

_That fucking dress._

The crimson silk flows delicately over her slim form, exposing her narrow shoulders and catching the disco ball's idiot light to play shadows across her curves. The majority of the women present have opted for a shorter dress; showcasing bare thighs that ordinarily go hidden. His young doctor's dress upholds a more demure cut, the hem reaching the sharp bone of her kneecaps. Not that he's complaining. As she moves about the room, the soft material swishes about her slim legs, every now revealing the pale flash of her thighs in a way that seems deliciously candid.

As the band brings their song to a crashing finish, he scowls as Cameron leans in towards the oncologist, his stomach knotting painfully until her lips travel past Wilson's and find his ear so as to make herself heard. She is relatively tall compared to most of the women he knows, and with her heels she is- hatefully- the perfect height to match Wilson's.

He knows he himself still towers over her.

Pulling himself from such thoughts with firm mental reprimand, he orders another double on the rocks to ease his mind. He is not overly surprised at his reaction to Wilson standing so close- so intimately close- to the young immunologist; wise enough in himself to recognize the gnawing sensation deep in his gut for the simple thing that it is.

Lust.

_And isn't that to be expected?_

She is a pretty girl as it is, and now- low and behold- it would appear she possesses cruel talent when it comes to adopting a nighttime persona. Her makeup sensationally smokey, yet light. Her dress undeniably sexy, yet strangely demure. She has presented herself as a master of knowing that 'less is more' on several previous occasions- although usually this is a simple trick directed towards winding up Chase- but tonight she has truly excelled herself.

Knocking back his drink- trying to recall how many he has had and failing- he spies a small blonde in a white cocktail dress to his left and leans over to talk to her. She draws back ever so slightly, away from the scent of whisky on his breath, and although she smiles sweetly- her dark eyes bright beneath purple shadowed lids- and pouts her painted lips pleasantly, her initial reaction irks him and he shrugs, turning back to study his empty glass.

"Would you like another?"

That delicate scent of vanilla spice and he squeezes his eyes shut momentarily as cool fingers skim the nape of his neck and she slips between the bovine masses yelling their orders to perch on the stool next to him.

"I'm surprised you're not trying to cut me off."

"Why?"

"Oh, I'm sure you could think of some boring, moral, sensible reason."

She rolls her eyes, and he wishes she wouldn't do that as it once more draws his attention to her sooty lashes.

"I'm offering, aren't I?"

"Fine. knock yourself out."

He grumbles irritably, watching with hidden bemusement as a waiter comes running to her aid almost immediately, snubbing several of the men waiting before her. He raises an eyebrow as he watches the young man splash a healthy dose of whisky into a fresh tumbler. Monkey Shoulder. And from the looks of the glass, she's ordered him a double.

Foul play.

"Are you not drinking?"

But no sooner are the words out of his mouth when the waiter places a large glass of pale white wine before her, the fact that no money has exchanged hands not going unnoticed. He nods his thanks, sipping at his drink as he studies her do the same to hers. The glass is big, and he knows she's surely aware of her limits, but he can't help feel a little like an over-protective father watching his skinny little girl holding such a large amount of alcohol.

"Mixing it up?"

"Huh?"

"You were drinking red before. You'll get drunk."

"I'm pretty sure I can handle it, House."

"But then of course, maybe that's your master plan? Get wasted and take some lucky boy- or girl- home? Wilson seemed rather taken."

She misses the venom in his tone, mistaking it for House simply being, well, House.

"Wilson's married."

"He is. And  _you're_  on the underside of thirty and hot. I don't think he'd have as much of a problem with it as you do."

"It's not like that and you know it. We were just  _dancing_."

She mutters irritably, but the graying doctor doesn't miss the blush gracing her pale cheeks. He would find her reaction to his use of the term 'hot' amusing if it wasn't for the fact that the rosy tinge to her alabaster complexion excites not just his mind.

"Looked more like groping from here."

"Well then maybe you should sit somewhere else!"

He watches her lips as she snaps at him; delicate petals revealing sharp white flashes of her teeth.

_God but she has pretty teeth._

"I was admiring the view."

And just how much whisky  _has_  he had?

"You're an ass, House."

She sighs, shrugging her shoulders and pushing herself gracefully from her seat. She stalks swiftly away from the bar, her sour mood visibly dissipating as she passes Cuddy- the mastermind behind this wretched evening- and stops to speak to her animatedly. From her sweet smile and the gesture she makes with her hand, House guesses she is complimenting the Dean on her choice of dress. He regards the garment curiously; dark satin with a faded snakeskin print, cut devilishly low to accentuate healthy cleavage and hemmed midway up well-toned thighs. It is a nice dress, at least he imagines most of the males in the room think so, but he finds himself frowning irritably when his eyes leave the Dean's sinfully exposed bounty to find pale, lightly freckled shoulder blades.

Cuddy appears to reciprocate the young brunette's compliments, plucking at the scarlet fabric of her dress appreciatively before bidding her a pleasant evening as Cameron heads off towards the far corner of the room and she herself closes in on the bar.

"You're wearing a suit."

"Thanks, I had no idea."

"Well, you look very handsome."

"As do you. I'm thrilled to see the twins out."

"Don't be an ass."

"My, that's a popular opinion tonight."

"Ah yes, I saw you talking to Dr Cameron."

"Observant."

"What are you drinking?"

"Whisky."

She leans over towards the bar and orders him another, along with a gin and tonic for herself. He watches the young waiter fulfill her order with hidden curiosity, the young man's eyes flickering up to return his gaze with obvious confusion as to how an old man has managed to secure himself two attractive women in one night.

The waiter holds out a hand and takes her money.

Curious.

"The place is packed, you must be pretty pleased."

"I am! I'm glad I went with the band as well, I think they've really got everyone into the mood."

"I'm sure they have."

He turns to his drink a little clumsily, his face warm with the numbing throb of alcohol. A familiar voice sounds from behind them and he glances up to regard Wilson casually, his bright eyes tinged with red.

"Well hello there, Casanova."

"What?"

"Enjoy your dance?"

"... Yes?"

The oncologist frowns in confusion, before turning to Cuddy and complimenting her extravagantly on her choice of wardrobe. House tunes all of this out as his attention cuts suddenly to the far corner of the large room where his youngest employee chats amiably with a dark haired young man. He recognizes this wannabe heartthrob as the elusive Dr Knutz, and smirks as the surgeon flips his hair back arrogantly.

His grin falters a little when Knutz leans in towards the brunette, his lips brushing her cheek as he speaks to her and his hand slyly finding her waist.

* * *

At some point he is aware that Cuddy and Wilson excuse themselves to enjoy their own dance, but his eyes remain fixed on the little scene being played out by Cameron as she laughs every now and then at whatever her slippery companion breaths hotly into her ear, sipping delicately at her wine as both the young man's hands now rest at her waist.

One of those hands abruptly starts traveling south, while Knutz's mouth leaves the brunette's ear in favor of trailing her throat. Cameron blushes furiously, but tilts her head a little, allowing this new onslaught.

House will later think he wouldn't have reacted the way he did had he not consumed the amount of whisky he has tonight.

He supposes he'll never know for sure.

Staggering up from his stool, he marches with an ungainly stride over to the young brunette, barking her name and grabbing her hand before pulling her rudely out of the room, much to her bright eyed shock. Once they find themselves in the hallway, she snaps out of her disbelief and yells at him furiously.

"What the hell, House?"

"What do you  _think_  'what the hell'? What do you think you're doing, making an embarrassment of yourself like that!? Did you forget that you're at work? Forgive me for not being overly thrilled at my employee getting hot and heavy in front of the whole fucking hospital!"

His words come out mildly slurred, and he's impressed they even make sense at all. She regards him venomously, and her irate breathing has her chest fluttering tantalizingly as her darkened eyes glitter dangerously.

"Hot and heavy? Did you even  _see_  Chase in there with that nurse?"

"That's different!"

"Why? Why the _hell_  is that different?!"

"Because..."

But he can find no words, and so instead does what seems like the only logical thing in their current situation and closes the distance aggressively between them. She lets out a startled cry as he pushes her none to gently against the wall and finds her mouth with his, and he growls encouragingly when she parts her lips shyly.

Cameron shivers a little, completely overwhelmed by the entire situation, her wine still held precariously between slim fingers as she lets out a sharp intake of breath upon feeling the older doctor's lust pressing aggressively into her hip.

"House..."

He growls as she moves her head to the side, breaking contact as she breathes unsteadily. His mind is a red haze of whisky and her, but somewhere beneath this intoxicating combination he identifies the notion that she may not want him to do this. He doubts it. But he doesn't want to do something he'll regret later. Not something like that, anyway.

"Cameron..."

"We can't... We can't-"

He sighs, his face still buried into the sweet scented curls that tumble about her throat, but before he can pull away, her arm loops around his neck and she tilts her head back against the wall to allow his breath to whisper against her pale flesh.

"-N-not here."


	3. Chapter 3

House limps into the eery darkness of the Clinic, the harsh fluorescents that usually flicker maddeningly shut off as the sterile room sits deserted; anyone needing medical attention at this time of night directed towards the ER. He leaves the lights off, making his way a little clumsily through the shadows towards the examination rooms that line the far wall, his heart beating out a rapid rhythm to match the light staccato beats of Cameron's heels as she follows him.

Opening the door and allowing her to slip past, he turns on the overhead lights and slides the lock shut to save them from being disturbed. He turns to face her slowly, and in the unforgiving glare of the hospital lights she looks temptingly disheveled and a little nervous. His analysis is concluded when she knocks back the remains of her wine, her throat rippling as she swallows.

"Turn on the examination light."

"...Why?"

She regards him uneasily and he resists the urge to growl at her. True to her nature, he finds he doesn't need to; she simply offers him one last wary glance before doing as she's told. He nods in approval, and hopes she hasn't mistaken his request for anything too uncomfortable. He switches off the overheads to bathe them in a much friendlier dimmed glow and watches as she relaxes slightly now that she understands his request.

_Did you think we were going to play some kink fueled little game of doctors and nurses, Dr Cameron?_

He hides a grin, though he can't deny there being a certain appeal to the thought. Making his way to stand in front of her, he plucks her empty glass from between obedient fingers and places it on the metal tray that rests beside the narrow, tissue covered bed. Her eyes flicker towards its surface shyly and he clears his throat as he lays his cane across the foot end. Addressing her seriously, he takes the opportunity to clear up any lose ends, hoping that the delicious passion that she had tentatively welcomed only moments ago will come and revisit them; her current rigidity making him feel excruciatingly uncomfortable.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

The soft glow of the lamp to their side illuminates her face wholesomely, and he both marvels and cringes at the shy innocence that graces her features as her pretty eyes cast demurely down to avoid his scrutiny. She looks unbelievably young, and for a moment he considers simply walking out- considers leaving her to pull herself together and sort herself out- but then stormy green flickers beneath coal black lashes and she moves forward as she places her arms around his neck.

"Yeah?"

"Uhuh... You... You look very handsome tonight..."

House watches her silently as the brunette blushes and looks once more to the floor; her slim frame pressed deliciously against his, and his lust pressing urgently against the narrow peak of her hip.

"I try."

"Ha!"

"You look... You scrub up alright, Dr Cameron..."

"Thanks."

She grins amiably, and as his large hand finds the small of her back he's thrown off a little by just how much that slightly crooked smile affects him. Hastily pushing such thoughts away, he presses his mouth roughly against hers in an attempt to regain a sense of control over the situation. His hand travels slowly southward, but he finds himself thrown off a little by her familiar scent and essence and abruptly stops his carnal exploration in favor of reaching for skinny thighs and lifting her swiftly up onto the bed. She keeps her arms linked around his neck, while tentatively opening her legs just enough to allow him to move between them and hold her closer.

House's mind reels as a million caustic taunts run sickeningly through his head; an automatic safety mechanism that comes into play whenever presented with a moment of vulnerability such as this. He quells such thoughts sternly, happy to taunt and tease the young doctor currently in his arms when staring her down in the office, but not now. Not when she is so warm, so small, so _vital_  beneath his fingertips.

He supposes at some point she's going to expect him to either pull away or further his exploration with his hands, but he finds himself curiously shy in regards to the latter. He has often allowed the young brunette to play a part in his various fantasies, and as such has pictured the entire expanse of her delectable form as he imagines it to look when nude. Now he's so painfully close to being rewarded the real thing however, he can't help but loathe his previous pondering, as now that he feels her shiver beneath his palms he can think of nothing but how sweet, how lovely, how... Well... Unlike the women he usually ends up with she is.

He wants to touch her. He's afraid of breaking her.

"Bed's not too uncomfortable is it?"

Green eyes glitter up at him feverishly and he is unable to hide the small smile that touches his lips to mimic hers. Cameron cocks her head to one side comically, as if thinking his question through, before replying quietly.

"I'm not properly on it yet..."

Her voice is husky and low, but the graying doctor doesn't miss the shyness she fails to conceal within her tone. Covering up his own awkwardness with a lecherous grin, her smirks down at her lewdly.

"Patience is a virtue, Dr Cameron."

"...Haven't I been patient enough?"

She speaks so quietly he almost has to ask her to repeat herself, and he is sure that had he done so, she would have replied with something else entirely. Regarding her with grave curiosity, he brushes long hair from her face as he feels his chest tighten.

"Have you?"

"Don't do that. Don't feign ignorance... You  _know_  I like you. I've told you as much."

"I... You _also_  told me you were over your little crush..."

"I lied."

"Oh."

"It was... It was never a 'little crush'. If it was, I wouldn't have come back after that shitty date. Or after you hounded me out in the first place... This is a good job, House- a  _great_  job- but there's still a lot of nights that I go to sleep wishing I had the guts to just slap you across the face and tell you to shove it. You certainly deserve it now and then! But... I like you. That's what makes it so  _hard_. It's hard to have you treat me the way you do sometimes... But it would be  _harder_  not to see you at all."

"I see."

House clears his throat awkwardly, as much overwhelmed by the young immunologist's sublime openness as he is by her words. It is a facet to her character he has found eternally hard to deal with; her hopeless honestly skewing with his preordained perception of the world and its hateful inhabitants.

_Everybody lies._

He doesn't mistake this flaw in her personality to be the reason behind the uneasiness that gnaws at his gut; knowing that the culprit is guilt caused by her words and not irritation that she should have the nerve to say them out loud. After all, he is fully aware of the effect his comments can have on the young doctor, her reaction very different to that of her colleagues who simply grumble and roll their eyes. He hurts her, and she lets him, and that is why they absolutely shouldn't be doing this right now.

"I'm glad you came back..."

It's not a lot, but it's more than he's offered her in response to her absence previously, and he knows she can read between the lines. Placing his hands gently on her slim thighs, he leans forward to capture her lips softly this time, inching up the delicate fabric of her dress slowly. When the silken hem bunches at her hips, he glances down, drinking in pale flesh and the soft scarlet swatch of her underwear.

"Okay?"

His tentative tone surprises her, and she finds herself nodding childishly before offering him a flash of teeth and leaning forwards to nip at his bottom lip. Taking the young brunette's response as an all clear to proceed, House pulls her to him and begins an onslaught of heat down the slender column of her throat, his hardness pressed eagerly against her center.

As he loses himself in the taste of her, his mind becomes once more clouded by primal lust and the soft buzz of the whisky, and he groans appreciatively when slim fingers slide down his chest to find the small black button to his suit pants. Biting gently at the fragile bone of her clavicle, he moves his hips ever so slightly to allow Cameron to drag his pants midway down his thighs.

He is vaguely aware in his intoxicated haze that he should be embarrassed that she is catching a glimpse at the mottled flesh of his right thigh, the same as he supposes he should be slightly embarrassed at the way he springs eagerly from the confines of his boxers; pressing against her thigh urgently. Such thoughts seem rather unimportant however, when her soft lips find his once more and her fingers entwine themselves in his short hair.

House moves to lay the brunette down onto the bed, but realizes quickly that with the width of the unforgiving surface, there's no way they're going to accomplish his climbing on top of her. If they remain more or less in their current position, he is fairly certain his leg will hold up and allow him to finish, but he is unsure whether taking her in such a way is  _right._

Up against the bed is rutting. It's _fucking_.

He yearns to do both, but wonders if she does.

She means more to him than just that.

He just hopes she's aware of it, as he'll never  _tell_  her such a thing.

"I don't think I can..."

He mumbles into her hair, and she leans back to regard him curiously. Realizing the issue, Cameron smiles and shrugs, before offering him a decidedly debauched grin that takes him aback. She hops down lightly from the bed- her heels rapping out twin sparks on the hard linoleum- and she plucks at the flimsy material of her panties delicately. Easing them down over the swell of her ass, they flutter the rest of the way down her slim legs with a flourish, and she kicks them swiftly away to the side. Green eyes finding blue, she studies him intently as he once more finds her thighs and lifts her back onto the bed gently.

A part of him aches to remove her dress, but he is unsure his motor skills are up to the task. He comes to the slow conclusion that this will most likely be fast and decidedly unromantic, but knows in his heart that such things don't matter. The words they have exchanged in the brief time they've spent holding each other serve as a true measure of just how things stand between them. And besides... It really _is_  an exquisite dress.

"...You're beautiful."

"So are you."

She expects him to scorn her for such a remark, but he simply raises an eyebrow and she wonders if maybe- just maybe- he understands what she means. She hopes so. He deserves to feel the things she feels for him, and to her, he  _is_  beautiful. Handsome, sure, but beautiful most of all.

_I just wish he'd see that._

"Dr Cameron, stop, you're making me blush!"

He jests lightly, eyes twinkling at the sigh his teasing earns him, but he knows her reaction is only as instinctive as his own. Kissing her hungrily, he runs his hands reverently over the soft fabric of her dress, his fingers mapping out the curve of her breasts and the ridges of her bones beneath scarlet silk while she reciprocates with small hands that remind him of delicate white doves. Reaching her narrow hips, he nips at her bottom lip lightly before pulling her closer to him and guiding himself to press eagerly against her wetness. He whispers hoarsely into her flesh, not sure what he plans to do if her answer is one he doesn't expect, but he needs to know. She's young, and she seems suddenly impossibly fragile, and he needs to hear her say it before he can proceed.

"You're sure?"

"Just do it already..."

Her own words are husky and low and he fights back a smile at her irritation. Heeding her request, he pushes into her slowly, excruciatingly aware of the way she grits her teeth as she buries her face into his neck. Stroking her long hair with uncharacteristic gentleness, he waits patiently for the young brunette to adjust to him. When she finally unclenches and finds his lips with hers, he introduces a slow rhythm, his breath harsh against her soft skin as her silken muscles flutter around his length deliciously.

Tasting her sweetly, House growls as he thinks hatefully on the fact that had he not grabbed the young doctor by the wrist and dragged her away from the wandering hands of the young surgeon, it would most likely by Knutz enjoying a position similar to the one he holds right now.

_Or worse; Wilson._

He knows deep down that neither scenario is likely; knowing he should give Cameron more credit than to assume she'd just allow such things, but he can't help the jealousy that the thought conjures.

He is hers, he knows this.

But she is also _his_.

He realizes this now.

"You're a good girl, Cameron, and a good doctor. You shouldn't let the things your asshole of a boss says get to you."

"Is that supposed to be dirty talk, because it's sub par at best."

Her eyes glitter feverishly, and he can tell that her bemused smirk is simply camouflage for the true reaction she feels to his words. Playing along, he nips at her pale skin gently, adopting a low, lewd tone as his hands roam her body salaciously.

"Maybe he only says some of those things because he likes you..."

"Hmm, you think? I don't know, I think he may just be an ass- _hole_!"

She yelps as he slams into her forcefully, slim fingers digging painfully into the broad muscle of his shoulders. House smirks, enjoying the way her nails leave crescent indentations in his flesh. His superior amusement falters somewhat when the young brunette angles her hips slightly and flexes her inner muscles to meet his thrusts. Groaning into soft chocolate tresses, the older doctor shivers as he feels himself quickly nearing release.

Cameron clings to the graying doctor desperately as their pace become frantic and wild, the force of his movements alone keeping her from slipping off the bed. Breathing rapidly against the shell of his ear, she closes her eyes as he hums quietly, wrapping her strong legs around his waist with a cry as his thrusts become tellingly sporadic and he tenses in her embrace.

"Fuck..."

Her voice is soft in his ear and her fingers play curious patterns over the damp cotton of his shirt. He presses his face into her skinny shoulder and wishes he could just remain buried within her sweet darkness, but knows he's going to have to look at her at some point. Pulling back slowly, he regards her flushed features tentatively, noting the timid gleam to her pretty eyes as she waits for him to make whatever sarcastic comment he needs to make.

"Beautiful."

"... Y-you too..."

And with that she simply leans forwards to kiss him; tenderly this time, slowly, deliberately, with none of the previous urgency.

And he lets her; large hands cupping her face as he wills his mind to refrain from begging the question of 'where the hell do we go from here' and just enjoy the feel of her as he takes her in his arms and kisses her back.


End file.
